I was an honest person until diagnosed with cancer. It was my private business. Business that would become public when I needed to take off time from teaching. People would know when they’d see me going about life wearing a wrap on my head when bald. I chose to keep my Stage IV de novo diagnosis quiet for years as it was my choice. Only a few close friends knew, and my mother and sister, along with to whomever they may have blabbed. Why? I wanted to work and be assessed like everyone else. I didn’t want to appear limited. I didn’t need others taking up the slack for me. I certainly didn’t need pity, whispers, or in-my-face questions. One dear friend suggested I would have had even more support and seen more truly good people in my life if I shared from the start. She is probably right.
I chose to lie.
I’ve had lots of practice over the years. I lie easily and I’m a good liar. I’ve done it when I don’t want to talk about cancer and myself. Chances are I’ve lied to you at some point. If you’re nosey and intrusive, I’m not sorry. If you’re my friend, I am sorry. The truth is painful for me and I need to decide what I want to share about myself and when.
I can honestly tell you I will do it again.
I’ve held some medication back when hospitalized a few years ago because I knew they (nurses because of hospital rules) were going to take it away from me. I needed it. In the end, I didn’t take it and understood why it was important not to, but I did lie and even schemed to keep some of it. Truth be told, I believe they lied to me about being able to have access to it when I needed it. If it was to be denied, then I would be denied.
I haven’t been forthcoming (I lied) about the severity of side effects to my oncologists. This isn’t that uncommon. If a drug is working, having the dose reduced or switching to something else isn’t an option that I feel I can risk. I’ve learned where the line is of tolerable pain and too much pain and try not to use language that indicates the latter. Now, this isn’t particularly helpful because side effects need to be documented so patients are believed when they report them.
I am trying to reform.
This next tidbit has been a secret only a few have known until now. There were restrictions where patients were allowed to be when I spent time in the hospital a few months ago. Cancer patients had to stay in the cancer area, which was made even smaller due to the wing where patients were most compromised due to transfusions. To get my 30 minutes of walking in per day involved a lot of repetitive back and forth that rather annoyed me and made me feel stupid. I (somewhat) jokingly texted with a friend that I was thinking of hopping on the elevator I located and giving myself a wider territory. A conversational orderly told me the elevators could take me anywhere in the hospital when I asked. I thanked him. Perhaps I’d even escape, yet this was the coldest weekend in Wisconsin all winter. I wouldn’t get far. I opted against it because it really wasn’t in my best interest to put myself in unsterile areas.
Technically, these elevators were just outside where I was allowed to be.
However, the B6 stairwell was well within the oncology section of the hospital. I had walked by it probably a hundred times when it occurred to me this would be a perfect place to walk. I probably wouldn’t see anyone. It wasn’t a main stairwell. I could climb stairs up and down without holding onto the rail. At this point, I had been unhooked from the IV machine for a couple of hours each day and I was free. I’d keep my mask on because I wasn’t throwing all caution to the wind. So, I walked along the hospital corridor like I was minding my own business. I checked ahead of me and behind to make sure there were no personnel or any patients around.
Into the stairwell I darted.
It was wonderful. Up and down I went to my heart’s content. When I felt satisfied that I had done some good repetitive climbing, I instinctively stood inside the stairwell listening for noises like footsteps or voices. My behavior alarmed me only slightly with the realization I had some makings of a criminal inside me.
I’d do it again.
In fact, I did the next day.
Was this lying or cheating? I would argue I stayed within my area. By entering into the stairwell that was in my area, I was merely extending my designated space.
I also have some makings of a lawyer. I’d credit my years as a teacher where many a student impressed me and taught me how to break rules later in life. It was pretty easy get confessions and disprove their stories. They always left clues. I’m careful I cover my tracks.
Yes, cancer has turned me into a liar. As I mentioned, I’ve done it for self-preservation. The lies are part of the invisible wall I sometimes need around me to keep myself emotionally safe. I also learned other things over time. I’ve discovered that no one really cares what I do. No one is watching that closely. I could get away with an awful lot if I had a devious nature.
The question isn’t who is going to let me; it’s who is going to stop me.Ayn Rand
I operate from this quote often because I’m sick of things being ripped from me because of cancer. If I have a plan and can present myself well, permission is secondary. I can think of one example where I was told I couldn’t pursue a fundraiser I had planned. Not accepting this as the final answer, I tweaked the plan and reworded a few things so it could move forward.
Ayn Rand’s quote has given me courage to move like I know what I’m doing even when I don’t. (Living with cancer presents this opportunity often.) My college roommate came up for a visit a few years ago and we wanted to visit our former dorm. It was closed for summer and being used to host those staying for conferences. Why couldn’t we appear to be someone who belonged? We needed to walk in like we belonged there and knew where we were heading, while avoiding eye contact with anyone at the front desk. Doors and elevators were locked but we were able to talk our way in by pleading our case to an empathetic custodian.
And again, when it comes right down to it, no one cares what I do. I don’t draw attention. If I’m under the radar and get my way, I still get my way. If a lie has saved me from tears or a conversation I don’t want to have, so be it. To my credit, I haven’t told any huge whoppers.
I’m not under oath to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
I’m not even on trial.
And that’s the truth.
So help me God.